"I have less than a year left," Shiera said softly. "You can think of me as just a tool, like House Sennesta... I just want to live."
There was a pleading look in her eyes, especially striking because of her heterochromia—one eye blue, the other green—giving her an almost demonic allure. No other man had ever resisted her gaze.
"Enough. Stop talking," Viserys interrupted. The truth was, he couldn't bear the idea that his offspring might carry someone else's soul.
"I'll give you more dragon blood when the time comes. Fresh."
At this, Shiera's face brightened immediately. It was clear now—she had come for the dragon's blood.
"I have some other news for you," she added.
"What is it?"
"Shinelli is pregnant."
...
The news of Viserys's conquest of Slaver's Bay and his extortion of Qarth spread rapidly across the world, much faster than anyone could have imagined. Volantis, being the closest to Slaver's Bay, was the first to receive word.
At first, Viserys's bold actions—the sacking of Slaver's Bay and the subjugation of Qarth—were seen as emblematic of the "Dragonlord" spirit, a return to the ruthless dominance that the Valyrians were once known for. In Volantis, a city that still embraced its Valyrian heritage, many were eager to celebrate this return to power and authority. They could, once again, indulge in the "glorious days" of Valyrian-like tyranny.
But Viserys's liberation of the slaves sent a ripple of unease through Volantis, a city built on the backbone of slavery. This act felt distinctly un-Valyrian to them. Protests began to stir in the minds of the ruling elite. Would Viserys listen? Could they challenge him? The idea of outright independence felt like suicide.
So, when Viserys's grand fleet passed Volantis on its way home, Alios and Nyessos, two of Volantis's most powerful figures, rushed to pay their respects, bearing lavish gifts.
"The Triarchs need not fear," Viserys reassured them as they arrived. "Volantis is, after all, my land, and all within its borders are my subjects. I will not treat you as I did the slave owners in Slaver's Bay." His words seemed to lift a weight off their shoulders.
"Your Grace, you are indeed a benevolent monarch," said Alios, another influential noble of Volantis. His tone, however, carried a note of caution. "But the use of slaves is a Valyrian tradition. There are still seven Free Cities in the empire that depend on slaves. Your words could shake the very foundations of our way of life."
Alios tried to sound as if he were simply concerned for the greater good, but Viserys saw through the thin veil of concern to the self-interest beneath.
"Lord Alios, I've considered all of this," Viserys replied calmly, his words cutting through the nobleman's scheme. "The number of slaves in cities like Tyrosh, Lys, and Myr is already decreasing. Qohor and Norvos barely use any slaves at all anymore. Volantis is the last place in the empire where slavery is practiced on such a large scale."
Alios shifted uncomfortably. His plan had been to subtly persuade Viserys to preserve the institution of slavery, which would benefit the noble houses of Volantis—including his own. But now, any protest against Viserys's decision would come across as defiance of the king's authority—a dangerous stance, especially after what had happened in Slaver's Bay.
After all, Viserys had just executed the nobles of three Free Cities and imposed a ruthless "kill order" on some of the Pureborn of Qarth. No one wanted to be next.
"Lord Alios, Lord Nyessos," Viserys called their names again, watching the two men—both visibly tense—snap to attention. Their expressions were a mix of apprehension and worry.
"Tell me," Viserys continued, "if I were to grant the slaves of Volantis their freedom, how much would the nobles lose?"
The question caught them off guard. For a moment, they exchanged glances, clearly surprised. They both seemed to hesitate, trying to gauge how best to respond. They wanted to inflate the number, but knew that pushing it too high could backfire.
"Your Grace, about seventy to eighty percent of the population of Volantis are slaves," Alios began carefully. "The total loss to the nobles could be between 15 million and 20 million golden dragons..."
"I will pay for it!" Viserys cut in sharply, writing down an impressive sum on a piece of parchment. "I'll buy their freedom!"
The two lords stood stunned. For a moment, they thought Viserys had lost his mind. But having plundered Slaver's Bay and Qarth, it seemed possible he could afford such a grand gesture. Alios blinked, processing the sudden shift. "Yes... of course! Your Grace Viserys has taken the wealth of Slaver's Bay, so naturally, he could afford it!"
But then, as the shock wore off, Alios began to think more deeply. Freeing the slaves wouldn't just mean a financial loss for the nobles; it would change the entire power structure of Volantis. The people who would benefit most from this act of generosity would be the slaves themselves. And if Viserys turned their gratitude into loyalty, and sent agents to seize power alongside these freed slaves...
Cold sweat trickled down Alios's neck. The thought of Viserys using the freedmen to overthrow the nobility was terrifying. Was this a test? A trap?
"Your Grace," Alios stammered, "while I may not be proficient in financial matters, I believe the total loss may not be as high as I originally thought. I will consult with the nobles of the Black Wall and return with a more accurate figure. In fact, many within the Black Wall have expressed sympathy for the slaves and are even willing to contribute a portion of the cost."
Viserys studied him for a moment, then nodded. Talking to someone with a good head on their shoulders could save a lot of unnecessary trouble. He knew the actual cost would likely be far lower than the number Alios had thrown out.
"Very well," Viserys said, agreeing to the proposal. "Give me a final figure after your discussions."
But he expected it won't exceed a million golden dragons, with the expanded tax base, Volantis's tax revenue will at least double. It's a sure-fire deal.
"I will leave this matter in your capable hands," Viserys said with a wave of his hand. "Now that my path is clear, it's time to rid the Iron Throne of the usurper who still sits on it—the throne that belongs to my ancestors."
"Yes, Your Grace," Feles responded eagerly. "Volantis will do everything in its power to aid Your Grace in eliminating the usurper and reclaiming your rightful throne."
With that, Viserys's fleet continued its journey, bypassing Volantis without stopping. His focus was now on warfare and reclaiming the Iron Throne. As they passed through Lys, it was only natural that Feles would come aboard the flagship to pay his respects.
When Feles saw Viserys, he noticed that his sister, Shinelli, was also present. At first, he didn't look too closely, only observing that she seemed to have gained some "weight" since leaving over half a year ago.
"Congratulations on your victory, Your Grace!" Feles bowed deeply, observing all the protocols of a faithful adviser.
As Feles took in the sight of the massive fleet and army that Viserys had brought back, his shock was evident. It was far more than he had imagined.
"Feles, don't pay too much attention to all this," Viserys said, addressing him by name instead of title—a sign of familiarity. Feles could tell Viserys was pleased with him.
But then, Viserys's next words made his heart race.
"I'll be leading the army back to Westeros soon," Viserys said casually. "Shinelli will stay here in your care for now."
Feles blinked, confused. Why wasn't Viserys taking Shinelli back to Tyrosh with him? Had she displeased him? His mind raced as he glanced at his sister again, trying to decipher the situation. To his surprise, her face was much rosier than he remembered.
"She's pregnant," Viserys continued, as if sensing his unspoken question. "It's her first child, and the journey to Tyrosh is still a few days away. I don't want to put her through that discomfort."
Pregnant.
The realization hit Feles like a bolt of lightning. His sister wasn't just gaining weight—she was expecting! Her glowing face wasn't just from good health; it was the joy of a young woman carrying her first child.
'Pregnant!' he exclaimed inwardly, feeling more exhilarated than when his own wife had told him she was with child. This was no ordinary pregnancy—it was the bloodline of House Rogare, tied to the Targaryens. Their family's position was now beyond secure.
"Congratulations, Your Grace!" Feles said, practically beaming. "I will take excellent care of her."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Feles joyfully led his sister back.